Cutter's Way
by Lonestarr
Summary: Sometimes the secrets we keep help bring us closer together.
1. Just Another Day

Disclaimer: I'm pretty sick of thinking up new ways to tell you that I don't own "Kim Possible". I don't think I have to tell you who does. Everyone mentions it in their stories. It's kind of a moot point, by now.

Chapter 1 - Just Another Day

(...the halls of Middleton High...Thursday morning...)

Several students navigate their way through the corridors of the school. Two of them are walking next to each other.

"Ron, were you able to get your algebra homework done last night?", Kim intones.

"Barely." He stops to take a piece of paper from his notebook.

The blonde male runs a bit to catch up to the red-headed young woman, who's holding her books with one arm. "It's like the work is getting harder and harder." The two of them glance at the page that's heavier on scribbled numbers than actual problems.

"Well, Ron, we _are _seniors, after all. That's kind of the idea."

Ron stuffs the assignment back into his notebook.

"That hardly seems fair", he states with a frown. "You know what would be nice?"

"What?"

"For a...mission to tear us away from our studies, you know?" Ron's eyebrows raise at all the right moments.

Kim stops walking. "Ron. I'm not gonna ask Wade to find us something because you don't want to go to class."

"You act like this is the first time I've asked."

Kim rolls her eyes slightly. She resumes her stride.

"Like it would matter too much. We haven't had anything major for months."

"Wait. How about that time a couple of weeks ago when Falsetto Jones tried to make off with some rare diamond. What was it - the Korman, the Klopman...?"

"The Kolvane."

"Yeah. He was all like, 'Kim Possible! What do you think you're doing here?'", recalled Ron, imitating Jones' helium-afflicted voice fairly well. "By the way, why do they sound so surprised to see us? They know what's coming."

"It's kind of like all the villains have dropped off the face of the Earth."

"We should be so lucky."

Kim turns a corner. Without looking, she bumps into Josh. Her books scatter on the school floor. Just as the two of them bend down to pick the books up, Ron turns the corner. He scowls a bit.

Josh stands up. "We really need to stop meeting like this."

"Couldn't agree more." Kim rises, her books in hand. "So, how have you been?"

"Pretty good. And yourself?"

"Can't complain."

He notices Ron. "Oh, hey, Ron."

Ron replies, with no discernible emotion. "Josh."

"Well, I'll see you later."

"Later, Josh."

Kim walks off, followed by Ron. Josh takes off down the hall. He spots a blonde at the drinking fountain. He puts his hands over her eyes. She gasps slightly.

"Guess who?"

"Josh..." Her tone is playful, yet upset.

"That's right, Tara."

She turns around. "So, what do I win?"

He leans in close to her. "Take a guess." Getting the message, Tara moves her face closer. They are about to kiss...

"Mankey! St. James! Get to class!", Barkin's voice booms.

"I gotta get going."

"So, I'll see you later?"

"Of course."

They rub noses.

"_Caveat emptor._"

He watches her as she walks off. "_Caveat emptor._" She blows a kiss.

It may seem silly for the Latin term for 'let the buyer beware' to be considered a term of endearment, but Josh and Tara were like that. It was one of those relationships where "I love you" wasn't quite strong enough. They met in junior year and really hit it off.

Bonnie had been trying to get at Josh for some time, but her bad attitude was too much even for him. Understandably, she was less than pleased about her fellow cheerleader's new beau. In the end, Tara really didn't care what Bonnie thought; her own happiness mattered more.

(...Josh's bedroom...late that afternoon...)

The rest of the day had passed Josh by without incident: go to class, eat lunch, attend the rest of classes, meet up with Tara and head home.

The young man lies on his bed. His world history book is open and he takes notes. From upstairs, he can hear the front door open.

"Josh? Hello?"

He gets up from his bed.

(...the Mankey living room...)

Waiting downstairs is a woman with long brown hair. She tosses off her red blazer and collapses on the couch. For a woman in her early-50s, she still looks quite attractive. Sure, there are the requisite wrinkles, but she could easily pass for someone younger.

Josh rushes to the living room, where he finds the exhausted lady.

"Hey, Mom. How have you been?" He sits next to her.

"Tired. I managed to sell four houses today."

"That sounds good."

"Yeah, but I had to sell them out from under other people's noses."

"How do you mean?"

"I'm a good fifteen years older than the other agents at the company." She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Those people would love nothing more than to see me fail and take my place."

"I had no idea real estate was so cutthroat."

"Well, Josh, life's full of surprises."

(...outside the Mankey home...)

A car sits across the street from the house. Two burly men in dark suits have their gazes fixed on the minimal movement within.

The passenger-side goon speaks into a cell phone. "Sir, we managed to locate the subject."

The voice on the other end speaks with a quiet menace. "_Perfect._"

The goon behind the wheel speaks up. "Should we move in?"

"_You were told to locate the subject and nothing more. Is that clear?_"

The goons reply in unison. "Yes, sir."

"_Besides, I'll be sending you some assistance with this job._"

A click from the other end. The passenger-side goon hangs up. "Is this...'assistance' he's sending us any good?"

The cell phone rings. He answers it. "_You're no doubt wondering if the assistance I'm sending is any good. Let me assure you...she's incredible._"


	2. Innocents Lost

Chapter 2 - Innocents Lost

(...the Mankey kitchen...Friday morning...)

Josh sits at the table. He digs into the plate of waffles before him. He hears a yawn and looks to the entrance. His mother, in a bathrobe, walks in.

"Don't mind me." She takes a seat. She notices his plate. "I guess I don't need to fix breakfast."

"Well, I saw you sleeping, and I didn't want to bother you."

"Thanks." He slides her a plate of waffles.

She picks up a fork and cuts off a piece. "So, how did you sleep?"

"Pretty good. I have to go in later and save my job." She takes a bite.

"I'm sure you'll do great." A forkful of waffles goes into the young man's mouth.

She swallows. "I know I will, but you never can tell." She motions to her gray-stained hair. "People might be put off by it. I could pluck it, but I heard somewhere that that's bad luck."

"You might consider dyeing it."

She glances at her son's spiked and dyed hair. "You're sure about that?"

He looks down. "I retract my statement, but let me tell you, this used to be a style. It seems kinda silly to worry about your hair, anyway. You're good at your job. Shouldn't that be enough?"

She sighs. "Yeah."

(...outside the Mankey home...twenty minutes later...)

Josh is half-way out the front door. He turns back. "I'll see you later, Mom!" The door closes.

"Take care! Make good choices!"

He gets into his car. The engine roars to life. For a little over a year, Josh had called the vehicle his own. It looked pretty nice for a used car, and it was decently priced to boot. The vehicle pulls into traffic...past the car with the goons. They look at the high-schooler intently.

(...Middleton High...about an hour later...)

In the halls once more are Kim and Ron, walking to class.

"...so, wouldn't it already need to be done?"

"Maybe, Kim, but that's the beauty of homework. It can be turned in whenever."

"But 'whenever' loses you points."

Ron shakes his head. "One of our society's many failings."

So bemused is she by Ron's response, Kim nearly bumps into Josh. She manages to stop before a potential collision.

"Whoa."

"Sorry about that."

"No harm done. You're getting better at this."

"Well, I _have_ been taking lessons." They both laugh. Ron fumes.

"Good luck with those." He looks back at Ron. "Ron, how's it going?"

"Ah, you know. Fine, so-so. whatever. Kim, we need to get to class."

She glares at her best friend. Her gaze is cut off by the ringing of the bell. "Catch you later, Josh."

"Yeah. See you later."

The teens walk off in opposite directions.

(...the cafeteria...a few hours later...)

Among the chatter of the dining students, Kim and Ron sit at a table. He's digging into a tray of vegetarian lasagna.

"Ron."

His mouth is full. "Yeah, KP?"

"Answer me something: were you replaced with a pod person devoid of manners?"

He swallows the mouthful. "Oh. Sorry."

"No. Not that...though thank you for swallowing. I meant with Josh."

A cough from his lips.

"What's the deal?"

"There's something about him."

"Please! Not the whole Mankey-monkey thing, again!"

"But they sound...

Kim joins him. "...a lot a lot alike."

"Yeah, we covered that. It's not like I'm crazy about him anymore. I've moved on."

"That reminds me..."

"Ron, he did not steal Tara from you. You just never made a move."

"And who was it that never told me I could make a move?"

Kim gulps a bit, then regains her composure. She smirks a bit.

"I know what this is about. You're jealous."

"Jealous, what? I'm not-- just what do you mean by--"

"You were jealous that I was spending all of my time mooning over Josh and that I wouldn't have any time for you."

Ron's eyes widen. He hesitates a bit. "That's...exactly right."

"Ron, we've been friends for, like, ever." She rests her hand on his. "I'll always have time for you."

He can't quite stifle the grin developing on his face at his friend's touch. Her hand's never felt quite so soft before.

"Are you listening? Ron?"

He snaps out of it. "Yeah. You got it, KP."

"Hey, Kim..."

The redhead looks in the direction of the rather smug-sounding voice. It could only be...

"Bonnie." Indeed it is. She stands behind Kim holding a tray.

"A little friendly advice: you might not want to leave that hand there too long. Some people might think you two are a couple."

Kim removes her hand from Ron's. She turns around and looks at the floor.

"And you might want to be careful of that toilet paper stuck on your shoe."

The brunette gasps. She always was one to pride herself on looking good. A bit of toilet paper on the shoe would ruin her. Her eyes frantically scan her shoes. There's nothing there. She looks up with a scowl.

"Made you look, Bon-Bon."

She storms off. Kim giggles a bit. Sure, she was usually all business, but taking the wind out of Bonnie's sails brought her some joy.

Ron, though, was stung somewhat by Bonnie's words; would people think that way about he and Kim?

(...a house in Lowerton...a couple of hours later...)

Mrs. Mankey walks a young couple through a new house.

"...and this is the living room, or it would be." She motions around the empty room. "So, what do you think?"

The dark-haired man and his blonde wife whisper to each other.

He speaks up. "We'll take it."

"Wonderful. I just need to get the paperwork."

The older woman walks by the window...

(...a car...)

...where the two thugs from last night are watching.

"I really think we should take care of her, sir", says the driver. He holds a cell phone to his ear.

"_But yours is _not_ to think. Yours is to do as you're told._"

The two of them exhale.

"_Now, the young lady I'm sending will be arriving at Middleton Airport at 6:00pm. I suggest you not be late._"

(...the Mankey home...later that night...)

Another day, another routine...routine: Josh and his mom would talk about their days, they'd have dinner, maybe watch some TV and head off to bed. For some time, it had been just the two of them. Josh's sister Lila attended Upperton University. She rarely visited, but always found time to call home. As for Mr. Mankey...well, that was something of a sore subject around the household, so it was rarely mentioned.

Mrs. Mankey had left her bedroom to check on some things: make sure all the lights were off and the windows closed. Her nightgown billows as she rushes downstairs. She thought she heard a noise down here, but didn't think too much of it.

She shakes her head as she walks upstairs. She peeks in on her son. Her footsteps are light so as not to disturb him. The older woman leans over the young man. She kisses his cheek.

"'Night, Josh. I love you."

She tiptoes out of his room and into the hallway.

(...Mrs. Mankey's room...)

The woman lies down on her bed, the blankets over her form. Her eyes close.

"Good evening."

Her eyes dart open. She sits up and reaches for the light switch. Standing in her bedroom are the two well-built lackeys from the car. Between them is a dark-haired woman with nicely tanned skin. She looks to be in her mid-20s. Her manner of dress matches her expression: all business.

"How did you get in here?"

The younger woman glares at her...'host'. "He was right. It _has_ been a long time for you."

"Who was right? Look, if you feel like buying a house, now's a pretty inopportune time. Get back to me after I've had a chance to sleep."

A sigh. "Games, must we?"

"What do you want with me?"

"My employer wants to see you."

"Your employer? Tell him that I've already got a job."

The goons slowly walk to either side of the bed.

"Look. We can either do this the easy way or the hard way."

The men lunge at the upright Mrs. Mankey...who jumps up before they can grab her. The lackeys fall onto the bed. The older woman stands near the door assuming a fighting stance. One of the men gets up and charges her. She crouches down and sweeps his leg, causing him to fall once more.

The younger woman groans agitatedly. She reaches into a jacket pocket. "Hard way, it is." She fires at the surprisingly spry older woman.

A dart hits Mrs. Mankey's lower back. She collapses to the ground and leans against her dresser. The last thing she sees is the young woman. Her arm lowers, revealing a tranquilizer gun. The older woman's vision gets blurry, but she can make out the woman's bright green eyes. Her eyes close.

(...the Mankey home... Saturday morning...)

It is quiet...eerily quiet. The sun peeks in through the windows.

(...Josh's bedroom...)

The young man rises from his bed. Usually, Josh would sleep in on Saturdays, but he felt there was something a little...off about the morning. He yawns a bit and stretches out his arms. He tosses off his bedsheets and gets out of bed.

(...the hallway...)

Josh walks around.

"Mom?"

No answer.

(...Mrs. Mankey's room...)

The bed has been made; it looks like it hasn't been slept in.

(...the living room...)

Josh looks out of the window. His mom's car - a navy blue vehicle she'd had for a few years - was still in the driveway. He looks back in the house.

"Mom, where are you?"


	3. Past Tense

Chapter 3 - Past Tense

(...the Mankey home...twenty minutes later...)

The place is swarming with cops, as befits the scene of a kidnapping. Every room has been checked; no stone has been left unturned. Unfortunately for them...

"Nothing. We've found nothing, Mr. Mankey", stated Officer Hobble in his Irish drawl.

"No. I refuse to believe that."

"My men and I have been over every square inch of this place. There's nothing for us to go on."

Josh slumps down on the living room couch.

The officer puts his hand on the young man's shoulder.

"Don't worry. We'll find her."

This bit of encouragement has no effect on him.

"I'm not too sure if this helps, but like I said, we haven't found traces of anything, even blood. There is a chance your mother's still alive."

This news cheers Josh up...but only a little. Sure, she may have been alive when she left the house, but...no! He couldn't allow himself to think like that. The young man knew in his bones that his mother could still be alive.

(...a darkened room...twenty minutes later...)

If there was more light present in the room, one would see file cabinets and various framed documents. Too bad it's so deficient of brightness.

The two goons stand silently behind a chair. In the chair is Mrs. Mankey. Her head is slumped over, thanks to the effects of the tranquilizer.

The dark-haired woman stands over a man sitting at a desk. He switches on a desk lamp, shining some light on a number of manila folders. Each of them are filled with papers.

The man picks one up and opens it. The young woman looks over his shoulder.

He raises his eyebrow. "Impressive, no?" His voice, though affected by age, is fairly smooth.

"Unbelievable is more like it."

"I assure you...it's all true."

"You mean to tell me that this...museum piece is--"

Mrs. Mankey groans.

"--waking up", states the man at the desk.

The older woman struggles, but soon looks down; she's tied to her chair. The light shines in her face.

She yells out. "What's this all about? Hey! Hello! Is there anybody there!"

The man folds his hands on the desk, unaffected by her outcries. "The wonders of soundproofing. Good for solving any problem."

As she catches her breath, her blurry vision gradually clears. "I know, I know. You're surprised to see me."

She squints...then smirks at the dark-haired man before her. "Landon Sheck. I didn't know the circus was in town."

"Ah. Your mouth." He chuckles. "How I remember your mouth..." His hands slam down. "...which is not to say I've missed it."

"I wager this isn't a social call?"

"You win."

"What do you want from me?"

He's not really listening to her at this point. "It has been a long time for us. It's funny the paths on which people are steered. I've started my own little...enterprise, if you will, and you've had your little life."

Mrs. Mankey notices as the young woman rolls her eyes slightly. She jerks her hands to get loose.

Sheck points. "I wouldn't try that." She continues to struggle, but her hands are momentarily useless.

The dark-haired woman smiles a superior smirk. "Granny knot. Nice, huh?"

Mrs. Mankey glares at her.

"Now, where was I?"

"I believe you were getting off on the sound of your voice."

"Such a bad attitude...I kinda like it." His train of thought starts anew.

"This enterprise of mine...it has thrived on the support of a number of - shall we say? - private citizens."

"What kind of 'private citizens'?"

"Citizens who value their privacy, of course."

"What does this little enterprise of yours do anyway?"

"Good question. The answer: dabbling in weapons, demolition, what have you. Like you, I grew bored of the old life and wanted to try something different. The guys upstairs didn't really agree with my decision, but we eventually came to an understanding."

"Oh, and where are they now?"

"Passed on. Old age, I'm afraid."

"But they were only a few years older than us!"

"Old age, car bombs. What am I, a coroner?"

Mrs. Mankey seethed with anger. She looked up to her supervisors. They taught her everything she needed to know, and that fact that this...worm took their lives...

"Anyway, I took some cash I had saved, remembered some of the guys we took care of, brought them into the fold, then steadily muscled them out. But the heat started to get too close, so I headed to Canada. This place is great. You can practically get away with murder...which brings me to why I invited you up here."

"'Invited'. Now, there's a funny choice of words."

He looks in one of the manila folders.

"My, my, my. What you gave up for the safe road. The road of a happy housewife bringing home the bacon." He shakes his head. "You had such potential."

(...outside Tara's house...five minutes later...)

In the year or so since they started dating, Josh had been here several times. Usually, he was picking Tara up for a date of dropping her off after one.

His preferred mode of transportation was driving, but given his melancholy state, he felt walking made for a safer course of action. It was Josh's hope that the walk would give some perspective to his situation.

He made his way down the path to the front door. As today was Saturday, he figured that Tara would be at the mall, hanging out with her fellow cheerleaders. The latest fashions from Club Banana and CDs from the music store, High Notes, made for some delightful distractions.

He rings the bell. He hears footsteps from inside.

The door opens. The young man is quite surprised to see who greets him.

"Hi, Josh. What's up?" Tara. He didn't make a move. He just wanted to see her beautiful, innocent face and hear her lovely voice. There was once a time when those would've been enough to cheer him up.

"You're probably wondering why I'm here. I'd thought about the mall, but it's so passe now. All the girls go there, so I decided to...stay in."

He steps into her house. She follows him as he falls onto the living room couch.

Tara's bright mood slowly dims. "Josh, what's wrong?"

He responds with an expression that she's never seen on his face before - one of sadness. A tear runs down his cheek.

Tara looks back at him much the same. The teens open their arms to each other and hug. She had no immediate idea why he felt this way, but, in this instance, thought it best not to ruin the moment with obvious questions.

(...the darkened room...ten minutes later...)

"I'll ask again: why am I here?"

"What? Oh, yes." He grabs another folder from the pile on his desk. "Have you ever heard of Albert Denny?"

"No. Who is he?"

"Just a local politico who's drawn up plans for a budget that will...squeeze out some unnecessary elements."

"Such as?"

"Mainly the 'what have you' I mentioned earlier. It may sound like nothing, but it is a very important part of this business. I need someone who could...cash him out, as it were." He slams the folder down for emphasis.

Mrs. Mankey's eyes widen slightly. "But it's not like you're stripped of help." She motions to the goons... "Why not have Lump and Loaf do it?" ...then to the dark-haired woman. "Or Natasha, over there? Why did you have me kidnapped!"

"If I had asked you directly, you'd have said no. Clearly, you could see the bind I was in." He takes a breath. "Truth be told, you always were the better assassin."

"So, I take care of this little task for you, you get to continue your business and I get to go back to my life."

"Back in time for work Monday morning. That's it, in a nutshell. Of course, there is the chance you may have to alter your current lifestyle significantly.

Mrs. Mankey thought about that statement. She's not quite the woman she was. Her dual desires for action and blood were softened by family life (with the exception of the occasional bone-crunching action flick).

Even if her will to kill returned, she may not be able to get truly away. She could head into hiding...but both her children were still in school, with little time before completion. She couldn't take that away from them.

On top of all of that, she hated Mondays.

"But what if I refuse?"

Sheck starts laughing. "'if you refuse...'" The other people in the room grow a little uneasy at this sudden gleeful outburst.

He gets a look at her face. "Oh. You're serious." He clears his throat.

He thumbs through the pile of manila folders, stopping on one near the bottom. He gives her a look as he opens it.

"'Student filmmaker takes top prize at film fest'." The older woman gasps. "'Local young artist dazzles art show crowd'. The internet's a wonderful thing, don't you think?"

He puts the folder down. "One daughter: Lila Maureen. One son: Joshua Victor. Looks like they both have promising futures ahead of them...but that can change in a big way."

Mrs. Mankey's eyes narrow to slits. She sees right through the euphemism. "If you lay so much as a finger on either of them, it'll be the last thing they do while they're still attached."

"I look forward to seeing you try and make good on that threat, but for now..." He stands up and snaps his fingers twice, as if to mock her threat. The two men each grab an arm. "See that the lady gets cleaned up. She's got quite the agenda ahead of her." They escort her out, inasmuch that 'escort' means lift and drag.

Sheck leans against the desk. The young woman joins him at his side.

"You really seem to have everything figured out..."

"Thank you."

"...not like the last guy I worked for."

"Oh, yes. You mentioned him in our first meeting."

"He'd have these big plans, but he almost never thought them through."

"Sounds like a real genius."

"He caught me laughing when one of his little schemes failed. Man, was he pissed. He said I thought it was funny watching him fail."

"Was it?"

She takes a breath. "You know, I must admit...after a couple hundred times, it really grows on you." The amused look on her face turns serious. "But why did you need me?"

"In spite of your previous employment, you come highly recommended. I've heard about you. Very impressive."

She waves her hand. "Oh, go ahead."

"No, I mean it."

"So do I." She looks at him hungrily. "Go ahead." A smile cracks her face.

(...the Mankey home...a couple of hours later...)

Josh walks around the house. No real aim behind it; just a little...look-see. He felt that the cry he had with Tara helped him. He's a long way from feeling good, but his mood has improved to an extent.

The ringing of the living room phone shatters the tranquil mood.

Perhaps it's the abductor with ransom information. Josh eagerly picks up.

"Hello." He answers with a sternness that belies his attitude.

"Josh." A woman's voice; light and willowy.

"Lila?"

"Yeah. Put Mom on."

"I can't."

"What? Is she sleeping? Wake her up."

The sternness leaves his voice. "I can't!"

"Why not?"

"She's...she was kidnapped."

From Lila's end, it sounds like the receiver has been dropped.

"Lila? Please don't lose it on me. You're the older sibling. You have to be strong."

(...a news report...about an hour later...)

"...a cat that fetches. Truly incredible. On a more serious note, local real estate agent Sally Mankey was abducted from her home early this morning. Police say that they have no leads, but believe the woman to be alive. More on this story as it develops. For Middleton News, I'm June Finch."


	4. It Takes Two

Chapter 4 - It Takes Two...

(...the streets of Middleton...about an hour later...)

A navy blue car makes its way down the road. Behind the wheel is a young woman with shoulder-length brown hair. She's about twenty. Every so often, she wipes tears from her eyes. She is, apparently, not in the best of spirits. Then again, how else would one react to news from their younger brother that their mother was taken out of their home?

Lila cared for her mother, despite what history may dictate. One would think that the bond between mother and daughter would be the strongest thing in the world. Lila's relationship with her mother worked overtime to wreck that stereotype. They'd engage in shouting matches. The typical kind, really: "Don't stay out too late!", "What are you wearing?" and the ever-popular "I'm only trying to do what's best for you!"

At the end of the day, Lila was Daddy's little girl. She and her father were practically inseparable. Among other things, they took walks together and did some work around the house.

A great swell of sadness swept over her as she approached her old home. From time to time in the arguments, Lila would let slip the expression "I hate you! I wish you were dead!" Never once did she mean it, and now...

Her car pulls into the driveway. She takes a breath as she turns off the engine.

Lila nervously approaches the house. Her hand brings up her ring of keys. She searches for the key to the front door. Unfortunately, she'd long since cast off her house keys.

She rings the doorbell. The door opens. Standing before her is Josh. He is quite surprised to see her. After several moments without speaking, the two siblings embrace.

(...Bueno Nacho...about twenty minutes later...)

Kim and Monique sit in a booth. Not unlike Tara, the two of them grew disenchanted with the mall as a weekend hang-out spot. Of course, it could be argued (and sometimes has been) that they hang out at Bueno Nacho too much. Oh, well.

How Monique savored her days off from Club Banana. The dark-haired girl enjoys a chimmerito, while the redhead takes a pass on dining.

"...was just so cold. Can you believe that?"

No response.

"Monique?"

She swallows her mouthful.

"Did you hear what I said?"

"Yeah. 'Yesterday, I ran into Josh. We were talking and Ron rushed me away. He was just so cold.' Every word."

"He also had the nerve to say that Josh stole Tara from him. He could've had Tara at any time."

"But nothing happened?"

"Yeah. He didn't know about her."

"And why do you suppose that is?"

Kim looks up. "Come again?"

"Look at the facts, Kim: Ron has a chance with a girl who likes him...a lot. You know about the girl's crush, but you don't say anything to him."

"Monique, what are you getting at?"

She waves her hands. "Nothing, nothing." She leans in. "Except that there may have been a reason for this."

"I'm not following you."

A smirk develops on Monique's face. "I've seen how you look at him when you think no one's looking. Even when he's at home, doing nothing, you're so concerned."

Kim eyes her friend with derision. "Do you realize how absurd you sound; looking for meaningless little bits like that where they don't exist?"

"I'm just goin' on what I see."

"Well, maybe you should have your eyes checked."

Monique laughs a bit as she returns to her meal.

(...a hotel lobby...ten minutes later...)

People rushing around. Luggage being transported. The dings of elevators. In other words, the common environment of this type of place.

Through the front door step two women, both in business suits. The dark-haired woman stands behind the brown-haired one, seemingly pushing her along. They walk toward the front desk, where a young man talks on the phone.

As they approach the desk, the young man hangs up.

The man's voice carries a slight Canadian accent. "Good afternoon, and welcome to the Crowne Plaza. How may I help you?"

"Hello. We'd like a room, please", replied the younger woman with a sort of forced cheeriness.

"Certainly. Would you like a single?"

"A suite will be fine." Sally tries to put one a smile, but her heart doesn't seem to be in it. The young man notes the expression.

"Is your...um, partner all right?"

The young woman is momentarily stunned by this assumption; two women want one room. No big. But, hey, when in Rome...

"Oh, she's just nervous. She's never done this sort of thing before." She leans in close. "Some think of it as me 'robbing the grave', but I like to think of it as her 'robbing the sorority house'." A chuckle escapes her lips.

The man's eyes roll slightly. "Okay. Don't let me stand in the way of the fun." His fingers dance about the keyboard. "All right. We have a suite available on the ninth floor."

"That's terrific, isn't it?" She hugs Sally, really playing the part.

"I'll just need to see some identification and a major credit card."

The women pull out their ID cards. The dark-haired woman whips out a Discover card. Sally glanced at the cards on the desk. They reminded her so much of the days in the agency when she was in similar situations. She always got such good ones.

"Okay, Miss Grace. Miss Littleton. You're in room 909." He hands them a pair of plastic keys. "Enjoy your stay."

"Oh, we will."

The women walk to an elevator, followed by a bellman toting their (quite heavy) baggage.

The younger woman pushes the 'up' button next to the elevator. "'Robbing the sorority house'? You really are too much."

"Well, if you didn't have such a bad poker face, I wouldn't have had to make up that crap."

There is a 'ding' as the doors open. The women step inside among a number of other people.

(...room 909...minutes later...)

This was one of those situations that one must endure when dealing with people of different viewpoints; each of the four other patrons had to get off on different floors. This agitated the already on-edge dark-haired woman.

The sound of a card sliding into a lock and a 'beep' allow the women into their suite. They are taken with the sheer opulence of the room: fancy beds, beautiful artwork and - of course - the mini bar.

A youthful, almost-out-of-breath voice from nowhere. "And this is your room." The bellman. He'd been trailing behind them. What were these women carrying in these bags? Bowling balls? Though he knew not to say anything; wouldn't want to jeopardize any chances of a tip, right? He and the bags collapsed in a heap on the floor.

Sally is drawn to the hapless young man. "Oh, I'm so sorry." She reaches into her jacket pocket and pulls out a ten-dollar bill. "Here you go."

The bellman picks himself up. "Thank you, ma'am." He stuffs the gratuity in his pocket and walks out.

The younger woman smirks. "Very nice, 'ma'am'."

"Don't start. It should be enough that I'm up here doing this little chore. No need to be so snappy."

"Get used to disappointment."

Sally turns away from her roommate. She walks to the window. Even in the daytime, the view of Toronto is incredible. She puts her hand to the glass.

The dark-haired woman regards her companion with derision; she shakes her head and scoffs. At that moment, a cell-phone rings. She heads for the bathroom. The door closes.

Sally looks out sadly. "Oh, Josh."

(...the bathroom...)

She pushes a button and puts the device to her ear.

"Yeah?"

"_I trust the two of you are settled in?_" It's Landon. She perks up.

"We are." She puts the lid of the toilet down and sits. "I must say you really take care of business."

"_I do my best._"

She takes out her ID and credit cards. "But these names...Willa Grace. Dede Littleton. Are you serious?"

"_I don't know. They just...came to me._"

"I'm amazed that you were able to do this; with the credit card and everything."

"_It's all in who you know. How do you think I was able to get that info on her kids?_"

"Speaking of which, you'd really ice them?"

"_I'm shocked. To even think such a thing... I would never hurt her kids...which is to say _I _would never hurt her kids._"

"Ahhh." She looks to the door. "It's just a matter of her doing her job."

"_...and of you making sure she's on her best behavior._"

"I'm still not sure about her."

"_She was good at taking out the unnecessary bits. That's why she was known as 'The Cutter'. You worry too much, Sheila. You should relax._" She smiles. "_I'll be in touch._" She pushes the 'off' button.

(...the Renton home...a couple of hours later...)

For Ron, nothing said a worthwhile waste of time quite like hanging out with Felix and playing video games. Even when he was losing...like now, for instance, he's all about having fun.

"Die, vampire piggies!"

Ron's score increases.

"Careful there, Ron. One might think that you enjoy this a little too much."

"You never know when I might have to face a few vampire pigs." He flexes a little. "Gotta be prepared."

Looking up from the table, Rufus groans a bit.

Felix laughs a bit. "Right. It's too bad Kim's not into this. It might be fun seeing what she could do."

"Yeah". Ron turns back to the game. He hits 'pause'. "Do you know what she said the other day?"

"What?"

"That I had no manners. Just because I wouldn't make nice with Josh Mankey." He practically spits out the name. "You know who I'm talking about?"

"Uh, yeah. You mention him every so often. Now, I haven't met him, but he can't be as bad as you make him out."

"That's just what Kim says."

"Ron, can we get back to the game? I'm not through beating you."

"Fine." The game is unpaused and is resumed. More vampire pigs bite the virtual big one.

Ron's eyes don't leave the screen. "I'm not jealous of Josh."

"I know, Ron."

"Kim can do what she wants."

"I know."

More game play ensues.

"This is no big--"

"Ron, don't make me throw you out."

"Sorry."


	5. Taking Shots

Chapter 5 - Taking Shots

(...Ron's bedroom...early Sunday morning...)

The blonde teen turns quite a bit in his bed. Despite his rather ludicrous laundry list of fears, he usually had no problems sleeping.

His eyes open suddenly. He could swear he hears something. His hand reaches to the night table and turns on the lamp. The brightness causes Rufus to groan and hide his eyes.

Ron sits up. The most unusual thing greets his sight. It's just Kim, standing at his door. He does a double take as he realizes...wait, 'just Kim'? If that wasn't strange enough, she stares at him with a hungry look in her eyes. Also, for some reason, she's wearing her cheerleading outfit.

"Hey, KP."

The redhead smiles. "Ronnie, Ronnie, he's the man, if he can't do 'em, no one can." The chant was delivered in a slow and breathy manner.

Kim cartwheels over to the bed. Nothing too out of the ordinary about that. Cheerleaders do these things all the time... At that moment, Ron noticed that something was missing from Kim's routine. Something that causes his eyes to goggle.

He gulps hard. "Wow, that must be some breeze you're feeling."

She says nothing as she climbs onto his bed, much in the way a cat would corner a mouse. "So, uh, what brings you here?" Ron backs away nervously.

"You."

He bumps against the headboard. Kim notices his fearful, deer-in-the-headlights expression.

She stops crawling and looks at him. Her face distorts. She wouldn't dare...the puppy dog pout. "What's wrong, Ronnie? Don't you like me anymore?"

"Well, I...that is to say..."

"Don't you want me here?"

As scared of Kim's all-too-forward nature as he was, Ron had to admit that a part of him was enjoying this...a part that grew with each passing moment.

The redhead resumes movement. In the midst of her crawl, her hand lands on the...part.

"Oh, Ronnie! You _do _want me here!" Her jubilation is short-lived, though. "Why would you lie to me?"

"KP, I just want to sleep, all right? I just want to dream."

She crawls next to him, her lips next to his ear. "You don't have to worry about that", she says, barely above a whisper. She nibbles on his ear like a bunny would a carrot.

Ron bolts up. He hits the light. No one else is here. Rufus is resting peacefully at the foot of the bed, bless his little heart.

He could swear that Kim was in here just now. Ah, the power of dreams.

His eyes fix on a peculiar marking on his bedsheets. He's tempted to feel the marking...and does. It's moist.

"Oh, man, I hope that's sweat."

There was a rather embarrassing problem that Ron managed to overcome at the age of five, so he could effectively rule out urine.

(...the Possible kitchen...a few hours later...)

Given the many missions she was on, it was a rare and happy moment when Kim could sit down Sunday morning for a quiet breakfast with the family. Well, not truly quiet.

A mild explosion from the backyard shatters the tranquil mood.

"Sorry." Another experiment courtesy of Jim and Tim.

Seemingly unfazed by the noise, Mrs. Dr. Possible sets down two plates of eggs, toast and bacon.

"I think you're spoiling those two." Kim takes a piece of toast.

"Kimmie, it's just a jet propulsion prototype."

Mr. Dr. Possible leans back a bit. "I remember making one of my own at that age. Sure, it worked, but the rose garden? History. Mom was furious."

"Uh-huh." Kim digs into her eggs. She notices a news bite on the front page of the paper. 'Local real-estate agent taken from her home'.

She takes the paper and opens it to the corresponding page. 'Real estate agent Sally Mankey, 54, was abducted from her home early Saturday morning. Authorities found no leads and the woman is believed to be dead.'

Kim sighs heavily.

Her mother notices this. "Is something wrong, honey?"

"Yes, there is."

(...outside the Mankey home...about an hour later...)

Kim walks down the street. It dawns on her that, in all the time she was crushing on Josh, she had never been to his place. She knew little, if anything, about the young man who, once upon a time, was her world.

As she got closer to the house, she wasn't sure of the exact purpose of the visit. Was she to offer condolences, or would that seem insensitive and possibly premature; the article said '_believed _to be dead'. A number of other things spun around in her mind: why would whoever took Sally want her? Why was there no ransom note? Does she have any enemies?

She decided it best to keep these things to herself. There's no reason to subject Josh to further misery.

She rings the doorbell. The door opens. Behind it is...not Josh, that's for sure.

"May I help you?" Lila.

"Yes. I'd like to see Josh."

"Come in."

(...the living room...)

Kim sits on the couch. She glances around. Pictures of the once-happy family decorate the room.

"Hey, Kim." The redhead is broken out of her empathy. She turns around.

Josh stands at the foot of the stairs. He walks over and sits in the chair.

Many moments of awkward silence. "I'm very sorry about what's happened."

"Don't worry. I'm just...trying to adjust."

"Do you mind if I have a look around?"

"Go ahead. I'm not sure what you'll find."

Kim heads up the stairs and whips out the Kimmunicator. She turns it on.

"Hey, Wade."

"What's up, Kim?"

"We have a serious sitch here. Can you do a thermal scan?"

"Already on it."

The device emits a beam. Kim peers into the many rooms. Nothing. As she finishes her analysis of Mrs. Mankey's room, another realization hit her: 'early Saturday morning'. There's a good chance the trail may have already gone cold.

(...outside the Mankey home...ten minutes later...)

Kim stands before Josh, looking somewhat defeated.

"I'm sorry, Josh. I couldn't find anything."

"That's all right, Kim. You did your best."

"Yeah, but somehow, that's not good enough." She takes a breath. "I only wish there was something I could do to help."

He puts his hand on her shoulder. "I'm sure you'll think of something."

She walks away.

(...the Stoppable basement...twenty minutes later...)

Ron stands at the washing machine. His mother wanted to get the laundry done, but, given his little...outburst, he was forced to take care of this himself.

"I hope I used enough fabric softener."

He thinks back to early this morning.

'That was very weird. Like my brain was trying to tell me something. As long as I can avoid Kim for a while - like a month or two - I'll be fine.'

The rumbling of the washer becomes somewhat loud. Despite this, Ron can barely hear someone over it. He runs halfway up the stairs.

"What?"

"Your friend Kimberly is on the phone."

"Great." He bites his tongue. He slowly heads up the stairs.

(...the kitchen...)

He picks up the phone next to the basement door.

"Uh, hey, KP. What's up? No, I haven't read the news. I usually just skip to the comics." The expression on Ron's face sours. "Oh. Oh, man. That's horrible. I don't know what I'd do without my mom."

At that moment, she walks by. "Oh, Ronald, thank you for doing the laundry." She hugs him.

"It's no problem."

"I have to wonder, though: why were you so insistent on doing it yourself?"

Ron swallows a little. "You know, I, uh, just thought I should help out around the house more." He grins nervously.

"Okay, then." She walks away. He wipes sweat from his brow.

(...an office building...that night...)

The setting sun turns the sky into a lovely shade of crimson. A youthful man in a suit sits at a desk. He flips through several papers. Working on a Sunday? A ridiculous notion, to be sure, but there were some jobs that needed to be taken care of...sometimes because the person wasn't smart enough to weasel out of it.

In the case of the man at the desk, he was there because he wanted to be. A buzz from the P.A. system cuts through the air.

"Will you be requiring anything else, Mr. Denny?"

"Thanks, no, Trudie. I'll be fine."

Albert Denny. For nearly a year, he'd been trying to rid Toronto of illegal and/or unnecessary businesses. The documents on his desk were instrumental in deciding which businesses would be investigated, shut down or left alone.

(...the streets of Toronto...)

Sally, with Sheila close behind, makes her way through the crowd.

"How will we know where to go?" Sally totes a guitar case.

"We'll know. For some reason, Denny works Sundays."

The women stop at an abandoned building.

"Denny works here?"

Sheila rolls her eyes. "No. There." She points to the office building next door.

"No time like the present, I guess."

(...a room...minutes later...)

Sally looks about the dusty enclosure. A pigeon rests in the corner, lightly cooing.

"Oh. Hey, there. I bet you miss your family, too."

"Hey, Eliza Doolittle. You wanna get this done or what?"

"Fine, fine." Sally glances out the window...and sees Denny working at his desk.

She puts the case on the ground and opens it. She takes out a fancy rifle, the kind that celebrities use to shoot big horn elk.

Sally looks through the eyepiece. Denny is in her sights. She places her finger to the trigger. Her finger squeezes it ever so slightly. Sheila peers over her shoulder.

The older woman notices. "You know, I work much better without an audience."

Sheila fumes. "Whatever. I wouldn't want to draw any attention." The sarcasm tide is especially high, today.

"Oh, heavens no. We can't have _that_." Sally smirks a bit as she aims the gun.

She squeezes the trigger. A bullet pierces the window. Denny goes down.

"Got him."

"Good." She jerks a thumb. "Let's get lost."

Sally puts the gun in the guitar case and follows the younger woman down the stairs. The strange thing is, despite what's happened, Sally seems...euphoric, almost like she's done something good.


	6. Helping Hands

Chapter 6 - Helping Hands

(...the Mankey living room...Monday morning...)

Lila stands at the mantle looking at the many pictures on it: her and Josh in the backyard, smiling, Sally in her work outfit standing in front of a house she's sold, a family portrait of her, Josh, Sally and her father. The co-ed tears up at seeing the last picture.

She hears footsteps behind her. She wipes her face and turns around. Josh trudges down the stairs.

"Good morning." While not quite cheerful, Lila greets the young man with an even tone. "Off to another day of education, huh, little bro?"

"Yeah." He doesn't quite share her amount of enthusiasm.

She wraps him in a big hug.

"Mom's okay. I know it." Lila honestly didn't, but she couldn't let herself entertain any thoughts of otherwise. She releases Josh and he heads for the door.

He turns back. "Wait. Don't you have to go to class?"

"They allow you three personal days. Besides, someone has to be here to tell those telemarketers to piss off, right?"

Josh laughs a bit.

"There you go. Now, get going. Do schoolwork. Break hearts. Whatever you're up to. Things don't always have to stay the same. You can make things better."

As he walked out the door, Josh thought about his sister's advice.

(...a darkened room...ten minutes later...)

It's very much the same situation as Saturday. A desk lamp (barely) illuminates Sally, the goons behind her, Landon at his desk and Sheila at his side. His hands are folded on the desk.

"Congratulations, Sally. You've done just what I asked. It was truly nice seeing you again. I'd like to commend you on a job well done..."

He laughs a bit.

"...is what I would've said if not for _this_!"

He flings a copy of the Toronto Sun at her. She catches it and unfolds it. Her eyes fix on the headline:

"'Politician Survives Assassination Attempt'. 'Survives.'" He slams his fists down. "I did not bring you up here for survival!"

"I'm sorry. I just..." She steals a glance at Sheila. "I haven't been at this for a while, you know? My reflexes aren't what they used to be."

"And yet you were able to catch that newspaper with no problems."

Sally clears her throat out of nervousness.

"I'm starting to lose respect for you, Sally."

The goons reach their hands toward her in a threatening manner.

"I won't miss you."

The two pairs of meathooks draw closer. Sally puts her hands up.

"From what I understand, Denny really wants to put you out."

"Yes", Landon replies, irritated.

Her hands return to their sides. "He wants to ruin what you've worked so very hard to create?"

"Yes!"

"And you think a simple bullet through the head will make up for it?"

"Well..."

"He should be made to suffer. To have his last agonizing moments drawn out."

Sally looks her ex-colleague in the eyes. "Am I right?"

"Yes, you are. There's a charity ball being held at the Crowne Plaza tonight. Denny will, no doubt, be attending."

"I won't let you down."

"I know." He snaps his fingers. "Gentlemen, see that Mrs. Mankey gets back safely."

The two lackeys escort Sally out...and she can't help but smile on the inside. Two decades of working as a real-estate agent taught her just how to read a customer; to know just what he or she may need. She never once believed that these skills would be necessary in talking her way out of certain death.

(...the halls of Middleton High...a couple of hours later...)

Kim walks past a number of students. The Kimmunicator beeps. She turns it on."

"Wade. What's the sitch?"

"You got a hit on the site. Apparently, a politician was shot at last night. He needs the extra security."

"That doesn't sound too bad. Any idea who fired the shot?"

"None, and you wanna know something unusual?"

"What?"

"The shell of the bullet. It was removed from the wall."

"And...?"

"It came from a Remington thirty-aught six hunting rifle. They don't give these out to just anybody. It's like the shooter...meant to miss."

"Why would a professional assassin intentionally miss their target?"

"We'd need a profiler for that."

"I'm gonna need a ride, though."

"On its way, Kim."

"Thanks, Wade." She switches off the device.

(...the darkened room...moments later...)

Landon rifles through some of his files. Sheila stands over him, her arms folded.

"Please."

He doesn't look up. "Please what?"

"Please don't tell me you bought that lame-ass excuse."

He stops his shuffling. "Do I have 'gullible' written on my forehead? I know you'd tell me if I did." She continues to stare. "Of course not."

He reaches for the phone. "A man has to have insurance." He picks up the receiver.

(...the streets of Middleton...)

A car makes its way down the road. The handsome driver turns a corner. His cell phone rings. He presses the 'on' button.

The device is at his ear. "Hello."

"_Are you on your way to the target?_"

"I certainly am."

"_Excellent. I'll stay in touch. If I don't, you know what to do._"

"Indeed." The driver turns off the phone as he rounds another corner.

He looks around at the buildings and the people walking down the street. Another corner turned. "Man, how big _is_ this town?"

(...the halls of Middleton High...an hour later...)

The bell rings. Among many students, Kim walks out of a classroom.

She passes by an open locker. The door closes, revealing Josh.

"Hey, Kim."

"Hey, Josh. How are you feeling?" Kim grimaces a little. She had somewhat regretted asking the question the moment it left her lips, but one ends up asking on impulse.

He shakes his hand a bit. "So-so."

"Have you heard anything?"

"Not a thing."

"I'm sorry."

Kim starts to walk off. "Wait!", he calls out.

She turns around. "Yes?"

He walks up to her. "You wished there was something you could do to help."

"Yes."

"Well, I thought of something. I want to go on a mission."

Kim's eyes widen. "I'm sorry?"

"I need to be prepared in case I ever meet that guy who..." He takes a breath. "Kim, I need this."

"Josh..."

He looks deep into her eyes. "Please."

She exhales. This almost never happens; people asking to accompany her on missions.

(...outside the Mankey home...moments later...)

The car pulls up across the street from the house. The young man reaches over to the passenger's seat and pulls out a suitcase. He looks at the home, a slight smile gracing his features.

(...the cafeteria...)

Amid the chatter of his classmates, Ron sits at an empty table, ready to dig into...whatever it was that currently occupied his tray. It was brown. That's a good sign, right? A hand taps him on the shoulder.

He turns around. "KP. Where have you be--?"

"We need to get going. There's a sitch in Toronto."

"All right." He gets up and follows her out.

"There's something I need to tell you, though."

"What's that?"

"Well...Josh is coming with us."

Ron stops and stares at her for a bit. "No, really, what do you want to tell me?"


	7. Risky Business

Chapter 7 - Risky Business

(...a cargo plane...about a half hour later...)

The back is loaded with boxes on their way to various destinations. They are bound up in nets so as not to slide about the cabin. Among the cartage are three teens, all in dark shirts and cargo pants. It never hurts to have a few Kim-style outfits for back-up.

"So, you can just call anyone in the world and get a ride?" Josh is understandably awestruck.

"It's a gift."

Ron folds his arms and glares a little. "Yeah, amazing."

Kim turns to the middle-aged pilot. "Thanks for the lift, Fiona."

"Think nothing of it. It's not every day I get to help out a teen hero."

She shrugs. "Well, it's really no big."

Fiona motions to Josh. "And who is that young man?" She raises an eyebrow. "A boyfriend, perhaps?"

"Oh, no. He's just a friend."

Ron exhales in relief.

Kim returns to her partners. "Well, boys, it looks like we're off to Canada."

"It's too bad, though." Josh shifts a little in his 'seat'. "I left all of my Canadian change at home. I've got, like, five dollars worth."

The ladies start to laugh. Ron, though, resumes his glare. In spite of Josh's unfortunate situation, he wasn't too crazy about having him along on a mission. After all, three's a crowd.

Plus, _he_ wanted to tell that change joke.

(...the streets of Toronto...an hour later...)

The plane had landed just outside the city; a cargo plane doesn't exactly jibe with the happenings of a big city.

The three teens were now in a car, which navigates through the city traffic.

The back window goes down. Ron glances out. "I can't believe how clean this place is. It's too bad American cities aren't this nice."

(...another car...)

Traveling in a different direction is a vehicle. Sitting in the back are Landon, Sheila and Sally.

He takes a drag from a cigarette. "Tonight can't get here quick enough." He turns to Sally. "I trust that there will be no more cack-ups?"

"Certainly not." She offers a half-smile as punctuation.

"Good." Landon checks his watch. It's 2:25pm. With his free hand, he takes a cell phone from his pocket and dials.

"Hello. No, no. I'll let you know when it's time. I'll be in touch."

He puts the phone away.

Sally looks up. "Business call?"

"You might say that."

"So, what happened to your errand boys?"

"If you must know, my dear Cutter, they're at the office, keeping watch."

(...a warehouse...)

The two lackeys gaze down at the workers milling about. One of them sighs.

"Is this how you pictured your life, Gabe?"

"Pretty much, except there was more money...and more women."

The goon known as Gabe sits down in a chair. His associate continues to stare out the window. "To be honest, I always wanted my own farm, you know? Ever since I was a kid; nothing but the land."

"Sounds sweet."

"How 'bout you?"

"Bouncin' seems like a good fit for me, Theo. Money, women, getting to meet people."

Theo sits in a seat. "The road not taken, huh?"

"Yeah."

They both laugh.

(...outside Middleton High...about twenty minutes later...)

The students pour out of the building. Among them is Tara, who looks around quite worriedly. She grabs the strap of her backpack. With her free hand, she reaches out to a classmate.

"Have you seen Josh?"

"No. Sorry."

She continues through the crowd. Her hand finds another student.

"Have you seen Josh?"

A young man of a nerdy stripe turns around. "I'm afraid I haven't."

Tara stumbles away, unaware of how she made that geek's day: a cheerleader touched him!

(...the streets of Toronto...minutes later...)

The vehicle carrying the intrepid youngsters approaches the Crowne Plaza Hotel. Ron looks out the window. "Wow. Now, that's a hotel."

The driver rears his head back. "That's the Crowne Plaza. It's one of Toronto's finest hotels."

Kim takes in the view. "Looks truly posh. Josh, take a look at this."

The other car stops in front of the hotel. Just as Josh sees the building, a pair of women exit the other vehicle. One with brown hair and the other with raven locks. Josh stares a bit at the latter. He's sure he's seen that head (or, at least the shape of it) before.

The cars take off in opposite directions. A cigarette flies out of the window of the car...and hits Ron in the face.

He clears the remnants away. "Hey, they're called ashtrays, pal!"

"You okay?"

"It's not like it's the first time I've been hit with something, though I must say that a cigarette is brand new."

(...outside the Mankey home...about ten minutes later...)

Tara figured that Josh may have already made his way back to his house. As far as she knew, the trail in the case of Mrs. Mankey had gone cold. Neither she, nor her boyfriend, had any idea what had happened to her.

The blonde knew that she had to be there for him. She regards the unfamiliar vehicle in the driveway with suspicion before slowly approaching the door. Her finger finds its way to the bell.

The door opens. Surprise registers on Tara's pretty face.

It's Lila. "Hello. May I help you?"

"Yes. Is Josh home?"

The co-ed shakes her head. "Sorry, but I'm the only one here."

Tara looks down. She knew that Josh was still feeling blue. For a brief moment, she thought that...no, she couldn't think that. There's so much more for which to live.

"Did he call?"

"No, he didn't. You think if he went somewhere, he'd keep in touch with his sister."

"Yeah. I...you're Lila?"

"I'd better be. That's what it says on my driver's license. How do you know me?"

"Josh talked about you a couple of times."

"How sweet. And who might you be?"

"I'm his girlfriend, Tara. Do you mind if I wait for him here?"

"Sure. Why not? It'd be nice to have someone to talk to."

Lila welcomes Tara into the house...but that car is still across the street. The driver is still watching...

(...Denny's office...five minutes later...)

The teens look about the room, which has been made a mess of in the investigation.

Kim stands at Denny's desk. "So, what can you tell us about the attack?"

"What attack? I was just going over some papers."

"Is there anyone who may want to see you dead?"

"Miss Possible, a better question would be 'who _doesn't_ want to see me dead?' It's a short list."

"How do you mean?"

He takes a seat. "I was elected two years ago. I had a personal mission: to do what's right for the city and the people. And doing what's right for the majority is bound to rile a few people."

"For some reason, there are people out there who feel that problems would be better solved with shoot-outs than with things less...fatalistic. My plan was to, if not get rid of all the guns, then limit the amount of guns out there. But ours is a violent society. They'll find a way around this."

Ron chimes in. "But what about that bowling movie?"

"A movie can only show you so much, even a documentary."

"Well, we're here to help protect you." The redhead spreads her arms to indicate her classmates.

"That's very kind of you. Now, I need to get ready for the gala."

She shakes her head in surprise. "Wait. What gala?"

"The one honoring the city's humanitarians."

"This may be just me, but wouldn't attending such a public function so soon after an assassination attempt seem a touch...foolish?"

"There are three tenets I hold myself to as a local politician: to help the people, to do what's right for the city and to never miss an event where I can get shrimp puffs."

The three teens eye him strangely. "Once you've had a few, it's a hard habit to break. Besides, the creme of the city's de la creme will be there. If any of them were to try something, it'd get out."

"And if anything should happen to you...?"

"Gotta die of something."

Kim couldn't help but gaze at the politician; so determined, yet so very...aloof.

Her hand finds her face. "So, where's the gala being held?"

"It's tonight at the Crowne Plaza."

Josh perks up. Perhaps he would get to investigate the barely-recognized woman that went inside.

"You're welcome to stay, if you wish."

"I'm sure that the sitch is well in hand, here, so--"

Josh stands up. "He's right. You never know what might happen. I think we should stay."

They turn to Ron, who is still looking out the window. "Well?"

"Well, what?"

"Are we staying or going?"

"This is a nice place. Maybe we should stay."

Kim wasn't sure if Ron knew to what he was agreeing. Maybe it didn't much matter. After all, working security wasn't a new thing for her. But there were guns involved here, wielded by someone who may or may not know what they're doing.

This was going to be a long night.


	8. VIP

Chapter 8 - V.I.P.

(...the Crowne Plaza ballroom...a few hours later...)

The various attendees file into the beautifully appointed room. A performing string quartet lends a touch of class. There is much chatter among the guests that are already inside.

At that moment, Landon and Sheila walk in, he in a tuxedo, her in a form-hugging green and black dress.

"Now this is swanky."

"Don't I know it? And, by the way, you look good enough to eat." He leans in close. "Make of that what you will."

"Oooh. I intend to." They both laugh. She looks around. "Hey, where's the corpse?"

"She was fixing her face", replied Sally, indignantly. Her figure looks nice in her purple dress, with her hair done up in a bun. A small purse brings the ensemble together.

"Sally. You look nice." Landon gazes at his former associate...a little too much for Sheila's liking. She elbows him in the gut.

"We ought to get going."

Sally trudges inside. Landon clears his throat.

"Gracefully."

She shoots him an annoyed smirk and strolls in like a debutante.

Sheila shakes her head. "Why won't you let me take care of this?"

"Because Denny's murder would be traced back to me. You _are_ in my employ, remember?"

"But I can handle it. I'm much better than the Cryptkeeper, there."

"Why are you so down on older people? She's my age, you know?"

She sighs. "Let's just say I had a couple of bad experiences."

They start walking. "I see those pigment pills are working for you."

Sheila looks at her lightly tanned arm. "Yes, they are, but you didn't have to go to the trouble."

"Actually, I did. People would've asked too many questions if they saw you as you were. That, and the maker, DCA Pharmaceutical, they owed me a favor. By the way, are you really that pale...all over?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?", she responds, quite flirtatiously.

Just as they get lost in the crowd, Denny walks in, followed closely by Kim, Ron and Josh. All of them are dressed fancily.

"I still say he doesn't need us."

"Better safe than sorry, Kim." Josh looks around a bit for the dark-haired woman he saw earlier. Too bad that there are several dark-haired women in the crowd.

"Besides, how often do we get to attend something so fancy?"

Kim turns to Ron. "I don't know...twice a month!"

"So, what's one more time?"

(...the Mankey home...twenty minutes later...)

Tara and Lila sit on the living room couch, facing each other. They look to be in pretty good spirits.

"No way. You can take classes about movies in college?", Tara inquired.

"Not just take classes about movies, but make them as well."

"How did this happen?"

"Well, it kinda started when I was a sophomore in high school. I was pretty popular, on the cheer squad. It was around this time that I noticed that movies were getting to be...just so crappy." Lila shifts a little in her seat. "My friends didn't really notice or care. They weren't into movies. They would be all 'Lila, if movies are so lame, then why see them all the time?'. Why suffer through the same old trash when you can make your own films? Then I heard about the film program at Upperton University. You have to have a particular GPA to make it there. Let me tell you, I fought like hell to get in. I worked and studied and, like that, my 2.1 became a 2.9."

"You said you make movies. What kind?"

"Whatever strikes me as interesting: comedy, drama, experimental, you name it."

"That sounds like fun."

"Well, it's as much fun as it is work."

"But it's worth it in the end, right?"

"Is it ever."

(...across the street...)

Mason lets out an annoyed grunt as he sits in his car. He watches the Mankey house through binoculars.

"How the hell am I gonna get inside?"

He reaches over to a briefcase in the passenger seat and puts it in his lap.

The case is opened, revealing several small tools.

"I could use the lock picks or the mini-crowbar." He runs his hands about the mini devices. "But then, I've always wanted to use the glass cutter..."

(...the living room...)

Tara stands up and stretches her legs. "Do you mind if I crack a window? It's kind of hot in here."

"Go ahead."

She goes to a window and opens it.

(...across the street...)

This innocent action does not go unnoticed by the assassin. He looks down to his tools and, with a frown, closes the case.

"Maybe next time."

(...the living room...)

"So, tell me. You and my brother. How'd that happen?"

"Well, I was at the mall one Saturday. I'm usually there on Saturdays. I get out of Club Banana and I run into Josh. Like, literally, run into him. We get up and I'm like 'I'm sorry', and he's all 'That's okay'."

"He has that effect on girls." They both laugh.

"So, we get to talking about history class and these reports we have to do on historical figures. It was due that Tuesday. I told him about it and he decided to help me. He'd already finished his report last week. We went to the library. He was looking through some books and...I couldn't take my eyes off of him. I think he caught me looking, though."

"And how did the report go?"

"Got a B+. That's the best I've ever done in that class. I saw Josh later that day, and I was so grateful...I kissed him. In front of everyone. I got two days' detention, but it was worth it."

"Detention? For a kiss."

"There's a no PDA policy at the school, enforced by Mr..."

"Barkin. Ol' 'tough-but-fair' Barkin. He's still there?"

"Sure is."

"Back when I was at Middleton High, I was always giving him lip about something, you know, before my turnaround. At my graduation, he told me how proud he was of me and that this is why he's so hard on us. He's driven to see us succeed."

"Yeah."

"I just wish that...that Dad was there."

"Your dad?"

"Ritch Mankey. He worked at a construction site. The two of us were inseparable." Tara sees tears forming in Lila's eyes. "It was raining one night. He was driving home and..."

Tara reaches out her hand. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

"No." She puts up her hand. "It was really coming down. He couldn't see the semi heading toward him. He held on for as long as he could." Lila wipes tears from her eyes. "That was seven years ago. From that point, me and Mom were at each other's throats. We never meant the things we said to each other, and now...I'll never get to see her again." Lila wraps Tara in a hug, crying.

"I'm sorry."

(...the Crowne Plaza ballroom...twenty minutes later...)

Denny sits at his table looking quite bored. His eyes go across the room to a similarly disinterested woman in a purple dress. He gets up from his seat.

Sally takes a sip of water from the glass next to her.

"Hello."

Sally looks up at the man. She looks surprised.

"You look like you're having fun."

"That's me; Miss Fun."

"These things are so dull. If it wasn't for the shrimp puffs, I wouldn't be here."

"If not for me, you wouldn't be here", Sally muttered under her breath.

"What?"

"Nothing."

A hand reaches out to her. "Would you like to dance?"

"Sure, I guess."

Denny pulls her out of her seat. The two of them hit the dance floor. The quartet plays a new melody; a slower one.

The two of them glide across the floor.

From a far-off table, Kim and Ron look at the couple.

"Looks like someone is having a good time."

"Yeah. You know, Denny was right about these shrimp puffs. They're delicious."

"I hope no one tries anything on him. The two of them look so nice."

Landon and Sheila look on from another table.

She snorts. "Does she have to be so clingy?"

"Sometimes, that's the only way."

"You don't think she'll rat us out, do you?"

"And put four lives in danger? I think not."

Denny looks at his dance partner. "You know, if I was a few years older..."

"Hey, I'm not that old."

"I'm just saying that...maybe something could happen."

Sally appears to be thinking about something.

"Say, you wanna get out of here?"

Denny nods. "All right."

The two of them trot off through the crowd and out the door.

They zoom right by Josh, who walks in. He goes to his table. "Did I miss anything?"

"Denny met someone. I think we should follow them."

"I don't know, KP. I mean, wouldn't it be awkward to run in on them, you know...?"

"Ron!"

"I figure that might be the next logical step."

Kim shakes her head as the three of them head for the door.

(...room 921...moments later...)

Sally walks inside. "Wow, this room looks nice."

"Well, I borrowed the key from a couple sitting at a nearby table, just in case."

"Why, Mr. Denny, are you suggesting that this meeting is becoming something more than it should be?"

"One of the reasons I became a politician, one that I don't tell people about much, was to meet women. Hey, it's why guys do anything."

"Well, I have something to confess, Mr. Denny."

"What's that?"

"My interest in you is strictly professional."

"How do you mean? You're not an...experienced woman, are you?"

"Not even close, though I am gonna need you to get into bed."

(...moments later...)

Sally looks in the bathroom mirror. In the background, she sees Denny on the bed, laying motionless.

She grabs her purse from the counter and walks out.

(...the hallway of the ninth floor...minutes later...)

Sally casually walks out of the room. She stops suddenly at the sight of a young man in a suit...

"Josh!"

The look of shock registering on the woman face is magnified in the eyes of her son.

"Mom?", he whispers.

He runs into her arms and wraps her in a big hug. She can't help but let loose a few tears.

"Are you all right? What are you doing here?", she asks.

"I think it'd be a good idea to ask you the same question."

"Well, I..."

__

"I think I heard someone around this corner."

Josh is distracted by Kim's announcement. She and Ron see him. "Josh, who were you talking to?"

He looks to find that Sally is long gone. He shrugs his shoulders. "No one."

The three teens take off down the hall.

Sally hears someone coming. She looks at the door next to her. It reads '903'.

She heads down the hall before reaching '909'. She opens her purse and fishes for her room key. The plastic strip is placed in the electronic latch, unlocking the door. Sally quickly ducks inside.

(...room 909...)

Sally walks into her suite. She looks around. The sound of the door closing gets her attention. She whips her head around.

Sheila is at the door, a smile on her face. Her hand closes the door.

"Landon made me promise not to harm a hair on Denny's head."

She raises her right hand. A snap of the fingers illuminates the palm in glowing green flame. Sally's eyes widen at the 'show'.

"But, thankfully..."

Her fingers snap on the left hand, producing the same result.

"...he didn't say anything about you."

The young woman lunges at Sally, who turns around and dodges the assault. With a handspring, Sheila lands on the bed.

A couple of bounces and Sheila is, once again, on the carpeted floor. Sally takes a fighting stance.

Sheila makes another run, fists blazing. She swipes Sally across the back. The brunette cries out.

The dark-haired woman crouches down and sweeps Sally's legs. The Cutter hits the floor.

Sheila stands over her. "Oh, I hope I didn't hurt you too much, Grandma." Sally rolls onto her back, provoking more groans. She walks in front of her. "I never really took the time to notice. How does that ground feel?"

Sally narrows her eyes and extends her leg, sending her foot into Sheila's shin. The younger woman yells and falls forward, joining her 'comrade' on the floor.

"You tell me."

Before Sheila can do anything, Sally crouches back and jumps to her feet. Sheila reaches her leg out to try and trip the older woman, but Sally grabs her foot and twists it. Sheila starts to scream. The noise ends as Sally kicks her in the mouth.

"Don't mess with a desperate woman." Sally runs to the door and opens it a crack. The coast looks to be clear, so she runs out.

(...the hallway of the ninth floor...moments later...)

With a ding, the elevator opens. Landon steps out of the car. He makes his way down the hall. He is about to turn a corner when he sees a young man with spiked hair. Landon stares a bit. Then it hits him. 'Local young artist dazzles art show crowd.'

Landon hides behind the corner. Josh continues through the corridor. As he reaches the corner, Landon swings his fist, knocking out the young artist.

The former agent drags Josh's body to a door marked 'stairs'. If Landon had been paying closer attention, he would've noticed the trail of blood being left by Josh's nose.


	9. La Confrontation Finale

Chapter 9 - La Confrontation Finale

(...the hallway of the ninth floor...moments later...)

Kim runs toward Ron, who is standing outside the cracked door of room 921.

"No sign of that woman who came up here", sighs Ron.

"And Denny seems to be gone, as well. "Oh, I told him something would happen."

The redhead is cut off by a groaning from within.

(...room 921...)

Kim walks in and finds Denny lying on a bed.

"Are you all right?"

The politician rubs the back of his head. "I guess." His voice sounds worn. "I was getting to know this great gal, then she asks me to get in bed. Next thing I know, wham! Right in the back of the head. Didn't even say goodbye."

"Do you know where she is, now?"

"Beats me."

(...a stairwell...)

Landon makes his way up the steps, still holding Josh.

He turns to the young man. "Your mom has caused me so much trouble."

Josh grunts. "Mom?" They pass a door marked '10' and continue upward.

"All I ask is for a simple house-cleaning job." Landon's grip slips a bit. He manages to catch the artist before he falls. "You'd think I was being unreasonable."

The former agent and his hostage go through a door at the top of the stairs.

(...the hallway of the ninth floor...moments later...)

Kim and Ron help Denny down the hall, each holding an arm.

"We just need to get you to someplace safe."

"Like back to the gala. Those shrimp puffs are great."

"Didn't I tell you?" Denny's voice is still a bit strained.

Kim groans at the conversation. She looks down and sees a red spot. Further glancing reveals another...and another, leading to a stairwell.

"Ron, take Denny downstairs."

"What is it?"

"Something unusual."

She follows the stains to the door marked 'stairs'.

(...the hallway of the eleventh floor...moments later...)

Kim keeps her eyes to the ground as she tracks the markings. She looks up at an open door. She approaches it cautiously.

(...an empty room...)

She looks around at the well-appointed room. King-sized beds. Mini bar. A safe. Amazing what people can afford for a few nights.

The redhead notices the curtains billowing in the wind. Her steps toward the drapery are slow and careful.

She pokes through one of the curtains. There's nothing there. Slowly, a figure emerges from the other one.

"Kim..." A rather weak voice squeaks.

She turns, but not fast enough. Landon grabs her arms. She struggles, but his grip is strong for a man in his 50s.

"The world-famous Kim Possible. I would never have believed it."

He lifts her a few inches off the ground. The source of the spent voice - Josh - reaches out his hand, spattered with his blood.

"They say you can do anything." He lifts her so she's over the balcony. "So die!" He lets go of her.

She manages to catch the railing. Landon slams his fists onto her right hand. She yells out. She quickly grabs the rail with her left hand. He turns his attention toward her busy hand.

With a sudden burst of energy, Josh gets up and charges Landon. He punches him in the back. Landon turns around and knocks Josh down.

The older man turns back to Kim. She grasps the floor of the balcony with her fingers. He raises his foot, ready to stomp.

"Kim! I followed the trail of paint to..."

Landon shoots a glare to the door. "What, did someone send out invitations or something?"

"What's going on?"

"Ron!"

"Kim?" Ron's attention turns to the balcony. "Kim!" He rushes over. Landon grabs him. Ron feels parts of himself getting numb. He looks to his best friend; she's dangling for her life. Her one-time crush in a heap on the floor. For him, this is too much.

Ron stamps down on Landon's foot. He grabs the older man's arm and swings him over the bed. He takes a breath.

Ron rushes to the balcony. He reaches over the railing to grab Kim. "Almost got you!" Unfortunately, there's very little friction between the floor of the balcony and Ron's dress shoes. He starts to lose his footing. He's about to flip over.

A pair of hands grab Ron's midsection. They pull him from the brink. Ron pulls Kim up.

"Are you okay, Kim?"

"I'm fine, Ron, and you?"

"I'm all right."

"It's good to see that the two of you are safe." Josh laughs a bit. "After all, you're my ride home."

"Thanks for the assist, Josh."

"Yeah. We couldn't have done it without..." Ron loses the 'cold shoulder' act and extends his hand. "Thanks."

"Well, isn't this just so sweet? Then I guess you won't mind if I finish you off together."

"Not so fast." Everyone looks to the door. It's...

"Sally. What an expected surprise."

"I can't let you harm those kids, Landon. At least one of them means the world to me." Kim and Ron look to Josh with mild shock.

He assumes a fighting stance. "Face it. I always was the better fighter."

She does the same. "Only in your dreams."

The two adults charge one another. He throws a punch. She dodges it and grabs his wrist. She tosses him to the ground.

He jumps back up. He fires a kick to her midsection. She falls and grabs her sore spot.

He picks her up. She head-butts him. He grabs his nose. She crouches down and kicks him in the calf. He falls to the ground.

"Wow." Ron pumps his fists in excitement. "Your mom is kicking butt!"

"Did you know she was so good?"

Josh shakes his head. "No, I didn't."

Sally crouches down, but this time, her legs surround Landon. She stands...kneels over him. She punches him in the jaw. Another punch. Another.

She grabs the front of his shirt and pulls him close. "What did you say you were gonna do to my kids?", she states through gritted teeth.

At this point, Landon can only offer a series of labored breaths as an answer. She drops him.

Sally looks to her son. He meets her gaze. The two of them run to each other. Their arms wrap around each other.

"Are you okay?"

She looks at him. "I am now." They turn toward the door and walk out.

The older woman looks back at Kim and Ron. "Are you coming?"

"Oh, right."

The pair catches up to Sally and her son.

"By the way, who was that guy?"

"Just a remnant of a distant past." At that moment, the remnant opens his eyes.

"That must've been some past, Mom."

"Oh, honey, you have no id--"

Sally's thought is made incomplete. The teens are shocked as Landon wraps his arm around her neck and pulls her back.

"I've always been a firm believer in leaving the past in the past, but for you, I made an exception."

She tries to pry his arm off, but his grip is unwavering. He moves toward the open window.

"Admit it. You missed this life and all it entails. Traveling, excitement, secrecy. Speaking of which, it simply wouldn't do for these civilians to know of this lifestyle."

"Give it up. You've already lost."

"Don't worry, Miss Possible. You'll get your turn soon enough. After all, people fall from high spaces all the time." Sally snags his free hand and twists the wrist, producing a mild snapping sound.

The teens grimace at the noise. Landon grabs his injury and falls to his knees.

Sally stares at her former colleague and narrows her eyes. She walks toward him. He looks up at her. She picks him up until they're face to face. He's on his feet. She head-butts him and knees him in the gut.

The older man falls to the ground.

Sally walks toward the door. The teens join her. She looks back. Landon is still on the floor. She continues out, a more confident look on her face.

(...outside the Crowne Plaza...minutes later...)

"...and that's why you missed the shot." Kim sounds pleased at having figured out the plan.

"Exactly. I was being watched. The only way anyone would ever know is if Denny was killed, and I gave up that life."

"But why didn't you ever tell me?" There is hurt in the young artist's voice.

"Josh...I felt that there was no reason to worry you. To look over your shoulder every day, afraid of what may or may not happen. A life lived in fear is a very poor one."

"About this life. How did it happen?"

"Well, it was a year after I finished college. I didn't have a particular direction in life. For fun, I decided to fill out a form to join the agency."

"What agency?"

"NSA. Division of Anti-Terrorism. It was a lot of fun: go to foreign lands, see the sights...take out their garbage." Josh's eyes goggle at the euphemism. "For a while, it was great, but, as time went on, I grew bored with it. I felt like something was missing." She pats her stomach. "Tick, tick. Then, I met your father. We moved to Middleton and the rest is history."

"That's quite a story."

"Aaaaah!"

Sally looks over at Sheila. She's being hauled away on a stretcher.

"Be careful with that leg! It's broken, you know!"

One of the paramedics loses his balance and falls, the stretcher with it.

"If you can't do it right, then don't do it at all!"

"Bet you that's not the first guy she's said that to."

Kim and Ron get a good look at Sheila.

Ron jerks a thumb at the young woman. "Could that be...?"

"Nah."

"I'm sure we can find a ride home. I'll get Wade." As Kim pulls out her Kimmunicator, Sally looks up at the four-star hotel.

"I'm just glad to put all this nonsense behind me."


	10. Surprise!

Chapter 10 - Surprise!

(...the Mankey home...minutes later...)

Facing each other, Lila and Tara sit on the living room couch.

"Tell me, do you have any plans for college?", the coed inquires.

"Hmmm. Not really. I figured I might try community college first, and then, who knows?"

"Well, if you ever need a reference, look me up, all right?"

"You got it."

(...outside the Mankey home...)

Mason continues to look at the dwelling through his binoculars. A beeping noise cuts through the silence.

He checks his watch. It reads 10:00pm. He sets the binoculars down and glances at the cell phone in the passenger seat. He waits a few seconds. It lays on the leather...stagnant.

A smile slowly creeps upon his face.

He gets out of the car. Whipping out the keys, he walks to the trunk. He opens it and pulls out a suitcase.

"Showtime!" He strides across the street, case in hand.

(...the Mankey home...)

"Oh, man."

"What is it, Tara?"

"I'm hungry. I was so worried about Josh, I haven't eaten all day."

"Well, I'm sure he won't mind you grabbing a bite."

Tara gets up and heads for the kitchen. She opens the refrigerator. There's quite a bit to eat, but... "Man, I don't know what I want." Her pretty little head pops up from the chill.

"You want anything?", she calls.

"Thanks, no."

Tara returns to her culinary challenge. She looks at the top shelf. Orange juice, lemonade, milk... She glances downward. Her eyes fix on some carrot sticks. She takes the baggie of veggies, closes the door and takes a walk outside.

Lila waits for her to return. "Find what you want?" She turns around, but there's no one there. She gets up from her seat and goes to the kitchen. Meanwhile, a figure crawls into the open window.

(...the streets of Middleton...)

A yellow cab rides down the paved roads. Its occupants are a woman and three teenagers, all looking like they've returned from a fancy dinner.

"It was nice for Mr. Denny to help us get home", Josh states.

"It's a good thing he doesn't hold a grudge."

"Yeah." Ron joins in. "Even with the being knocked out, he says he still had a good time."

"Well, that's how it was in my younger days. Whatever we had to do to get the job done, it was done."

(...the Mankey home...)

Lila is in the kitchen. The cupboards have been left open, and given that she's standing in front of the fridge, her journey has been less than successful.

She opens the icebox and sticks her head inside. The coed does a sweep of the containment. Nothing of interest.

She closes the door. She turns around and standing right there is Mason, one hand behind his back. "Hello."

A surprised gasp escapes her lips. He covers her mouth with his left hand. He pushes her backwards, her hands flailing about. She loses her footing and falls to the tiled floor.

He stands over her with a menacing glare.

"What do you want?" Lila makes no attempt to hide the fear in her voice.

"Simple...to watch you die."

He reveals his right hand. It's holding a gun with a silencer attached to the barrel. Lila's eyes widen. He raises his weapon. Tara walks back inside, unaware to either assassin or target.

The blonde cheerleader finishes munching on a carrot stick. "Lila, there sure are a lot of grasshoppers in..." She notices the man with the gun. "...your yard." She drops the bag of carrots. "Tara, run!" The assassin sets the gun on the table.

Before she can react, Mason lunges at her and starts choking her. With as much strength as she can muster, Tara raises her hands and gouges his eyes with her thumbs. Lila gets up from the floor. He rears back and covers his eyes.

Lila, taking advantage of the distraction, grabs the gun and trains it on Mason. He regains his vision and catches sight of the young woman holding his gun. Tara kneels on the floor trying to catch her breath.

"You okay, Tara?"

"I'll be fine", she states between breaths.

She focuses on her would-be killer. "Now, who do you think you are to come here and try to kill me?"

"I'm not at liberty to discuss it, especially with the likes of you."

Lila aims the gun at the floor and shoots between Mason's feet.

"Whoa!"

"Damn right, 'whoa!' Now start talking...because the next one won't miss." She raises the gun and aims at his crotch.

"All right. It's this guy your mom used to work with. He wanted me to come here and off you and your brother if she didn't do as she was told."

Lila lowers the gun a little, mainly out of confusion. "What about Mom?"

Mason takes advantage of her lapse in concentration and rushes her. The two struggle for the gun. It goes off.

The young man hits the floor, a bullet wound in his foot. He screams out.

Lila raises the gun at her assailant once more. Not taking her eyes or the weapon off of him, she moves near Tara. She extends her arm. The blonde takes it and stands to her feet.

"Tara, call the cops."

"Right." She runs for the living room.

(...outside the Mankey home...fifteen minutes later...)

The cab pulls up outside the house. Kim and Ron had already been dropped off at their homes. Sally looks in amazement from inside. Police cars are in front of her house. Neighbors are swarming all around. A man hobbles his way into a police car followed by officers. The cab stops. The doors open.

Out steps Josh. He can't help but stare at the unfolding hoopla. His eyes find... "Tara." She meets his gaze. The two of them run to each other. They embrace.

He breaks away somewhat and looks to Lila. "You'll never guess who I found."

The coed's attention shifts from the departing police cars to the cab, from which emerges Sally.

Their eyes dart around for a few moments before finally meeting each other's. Lila smiles, and her mother returns the gesture.

"Hi, Mom."

Sally chokes up. "Hi, Sally."

The two of them hug each other, both crying at what they've regained. Looking at them from afar are the two high-schoolers.

Josh looks at Tara. "I hope I didn't miss anything good."

"You didn't miss too much. Just a couple of friends getting together."

(...the halls of Middleton High...the next morning...)

Kim and Ron walk down the corridors of the school.

"That was some mission."

"Yeah...it was."

"Is something wrong?"

"Well, yeah. It got pretty hairy last night. I was kind of afraid that something might've happened to you."

"Ron, I would've been fine."

"But you were hanging from a balcony ten floors--"

"Eleven."

"Thank you. Eleven floors up. I don't know what I'd do if..."

Kim looks at her friend intently. "You know, I get the feeling you want to tell me something..."

"Kind of."

"...but you're not sure how to tell me, and even less sure of how I might react."

"Pretty much."

"And you think that this 'something' may change things, but you're afraid of the way things may change."

Ron raises his arms. "Exactly." She leans over and kisses him on the cheek. He looks at her as she walks past.

"Love you, too." She giggles a little.

There was a feeling of uncertainty growing in Ron, and for once, he liked it. He turns toward the redhead and runs off.

"Wait up, KP. That means what I think it does, right?"

"One way to find out!"

The End

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A/N: I must admit that I had an ulterior motive in writing this story. This story was a knee-jerk reaction to all the smack talked about one Josh Mankey. I've always found it rather inexplicable that he's so reviled. It occurs to me that he gets this because he (supposedly) stands in the way of K/R. Well, there's that and...um...well...did I mention he stands in the way of K/R? Talk about a poor reason to dislike a character. And it's not even exclusive to this show; this sort of trait is, sadly, present in several animation fandoms (hint: the name Lila was not plucked from thin air!).

Not that the show was much help in the matter. In "Blush" and "The Full Monkey" (episodes rife with problems independent of this one), there seemed to be (in my opinion) a number of little bits that felt like the writers were saying, "Don't worry, folks. We don't like him much, either." Also, one should consider that the creators said that K/R was planned from the beginning. One soon gets the sense that there were no such plans to develop Josh beyond merely being Kim's crush...something I find more than a little sad.

It's kind of a pity that so many fanfics are littered with these arbitrary slams at him. However, if one condescends to put some effort into it, an anti-Josh fanfic can make for a compelling read ("Paragon", "Betrayal"). Still, there are those authors out there willing to take the high road and make him a well-rounded character (captainkodak1, take a bow).

When I originally started this story, it was my intention to make a dark KP fic. It's safe to say that I may have punked out on this as the story wound down, but I like to think that I did a fine job, overall. Creating these new characters was a lot of fun, especially Josh's family members. As I mentioned, the show had no plans to develop him, so I pretty much gave myself carte blanche here.

As for the true identity of Sheila...well, wasn't it obvious?

Again, thanks for reviewing, look for the references and have a nice day.


End file.
